It is always dark inside the Hill.

The owner doesn’t like too much light,
And the glare of the sun outside
Makes the regulars at the bar squint
As they turn around to see who has
Now invaded their sanctuary.

Mr. Charles sits in his usual spot,
Artificial leg off and standing on the bar.
He tells stories about his younger days
And laughs right along with the rest of us
At the fool things he did back when.

Mike Green is back in town,
Buying rounds for the house.
He owns a bar in McKenzie
But spends much of his time here,
Telling wild tales and flirting with women.

Denise is parked in the corner of the bar,
Molly-Jo, the miniature schnauzer
Perched on her lap, ears up,
Hoping for a random treat of pork rinds
Or a good tummy scratch.

Gerald and Ricky are playing pool
While Johnny Mac watches,
Hoping they will spot him the quarters to play.
Richard and Dewayne nurse their beers
And tell lies about last deer season.

Janie and her man are fighting again
And Jimmy Moore is out of work this week.
Martine is worried that she is going to be laid off
When the plant down-sizes in August
And her husband hasn‘t worked in months.

We share our lives in this place,
Our worries, our joys, our pain, our victories.
We laugh a lot, and cry occasionally
In the cool shadows,
Lit only by the neon beer signs.

It is always dark inside the Hill.
As for me, I prefer it that way.
The darkness makes the laughter sound more cheerful
And makes it easier to hide the fears
I want to share but can’t.